Run From It
by Lady Shaiye
Summary: Pretending lust is love is, in a way, easy, for sixteen-year-old Bulma Briefs who's not looking to get hurt in an actual relationship, that is until Vegeta Ouji enters the picture. Can both escape true love?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do **not** in any shape or form own DBZ or any of it's characters; they belong to Akira Toriyama the owner and it's trademarks Funimation, Bird Studio, and etc.

**Claimer: **This story is written by me--Lady Shaiye and if you want to post this story on your website then please ask me or notify me first. Copying and claiming this fiction as your own is not appreciated nor embraced lightly so please don't imitate it's not cool.

**Run From It**

_Bulma_

By: Lady Shaiye

I stared out after him--him with those _intense_ dark onyx eyes with watchful ocean blue eyes. He walked around the school campus lazily--not seeming to take notice of anyone at Angel High-- not even the prettiest of girls who drooled over him weekly and tried to get his number. And of course that led to rumors spreading (that he was a homosexual) but they were quickly dispelled or not spoken out loudly fore more than one had paid the price.

He was the dark and quiet one. Though with one glare, people would cower away. He dressed in all black and even though he acted as though everyone was non-existent, somehow, I don't believe he's Gothic (thank Kami). He seemed so deep and complex--his attitude so peculiar--he didn't say much but when he did it made up for his quietness.

He was Vegeta Ouji; he'd been in nearly all my classes since he moved to Western City in the 8th grade (we're both in the 10th grade). I'd been fascinated with him since then-in ways that have been changing over the years. I don't know much about what he loves--but I do know what he seemed to love the most--to fight and why? Maybe it's because it eases the painful memories of his past and it's his way of coping with losses.

I know he feels… I know that he was stripped away from his family at an early age and that his parents died fighting a war on his deceased planet--Vegeta-- against a cold tyrant, Frieza, and in effort to save him, fore they knew his fate, they sent him to planet Earth. I don't know the depth of his past or why he so much refuses to associate with us Earthlings except for the reason that he says we're "weak and pathetic." It's more to it than that, I think…

I know that he doesn't like my boyfriend--Yamcha--who feels the same way to him. I don't know the full reason why they openly detest each other--other than the fact that one of Vegeta's very limited area of associates, Nappa, almost killed Yamcha's best friend--Tien in an Aireiski match.

Nappa and Radditz are the only two people who Vegeta will associate with, and that's only because they're both Saiyan. _I _personally think they're _idiots_; Vegeta is highly intelligent and is the only one in his area of associates who goes to school regularly…

Anyways, let me introduce myself, I'm Bulma Briefs a rich (billionaire), sixteen-year-old female scientific genius (only a scientific and math genius) with rich, shoulder length blue (dyed) hair, amazing beautiful blue eyes, average height (about 5'5), and medium weight (154 lb.).

I date Yamcha Yurameshi, an incredibly sweet, idiotic raven haired, onyx eyed, ex desert bandit (long story how we got together); I love him in a way that I _can't_ particularly describe as true love. I want to rush love, I can't wait; I'm too impatient maybe that's why Yamcha and I've been together for five years. He's just here because I don't want to be alone; I'm scared of being alone. I mean don't get me wrong--I really care about him but it's hard to love someone truly when you're so incredibly damn jealous of them… Like I really hate it when Yamcha gets **tons** of attention from the opposite sex and I don't get nearly as much.

To pay him back, I flaunt in his face how he can't possibly ever be as rich as me or as intelligent as me, and I blow up at him because he's not paying attention to me every five minutes or so or how he's neglecting me and talking to other girls. I'm an attention hog and it pisses me off when he gets more than me. Welcome to the world of me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Vegeta**

Vegeta Ouji stared outside at them--the Earthlings--through his bedroom window; so happy, so oblivious of the real world. They had someone to run to when life got rough, someone to protect and teach and warn them about the world; he had no one and he _hated_ it.

He was forced to grow up at age seven and they were still living ignorantly during their adolescence. He hated _them_ because of it. Vegeta's parents died years ago when he was only seven-years old fighting a war against a cold tyrant, Frieza, and Frieza's father, King Cold, on his planet, Vegeta.

He was too young and he didn't know how to cope with all the strange, foreign emotions that wracked his body: sorrow, grief, despair, and hatred… love, and hurt… He didn't understand any of it; his father had raised him to be strong, fearless, dominative, and ruthless for seven years. The urge to fight ran strong in his powerful Saiyan blood; that's why he did it. And because of the pain, still the strange new emotions, he did not know how to fully control; he only knew how to control the emotions to a certain length. They drove him mad. _Weak emotions_, he told himself finally.

Then he saw her--Bulma Briefs-- with him, Yamcha Yurameshi… His blood began to boil as he watched them hug up close to one another intimately. Why was she with him when she knew she didn't feel anything more for him other than lust? Was she so scared of being alone that she clung to him so? Being alone wasn't such a painful thing; no one could hurt you, only the past and the memories…

He closed his eyes. Alone. That was familiarity to him, being and surviving alone. It hurt like hell though. Why did he think about her at all, or about why she was with her weak, crusty, confused, idiotic boyfriend? Why did he stare behind at her--if only for just a moment, why did she plague his mind, his dreams? What was so erratic about her? Maybe that long, beautiful blue hair that accentuated her incredibly beautiful blue eyes, and that not-so-normal attitude of hers and her face, to him, was beautiful. Not many other people thought so, but he did if only for a reason unknown.

_I could show you-you could show me what it's like to feel to be in love, truly, bound together…_

_Damn. What is this that I'm feeling? _Vegeta glared at himself tiredly and he closed the blinds letting the darkness consume his extremely spacious room. He grabbed the knife from his bed and cut down deeply into his flesh. Once for hurting, twice for lusting after something weak, for even wandering what it might be like to feel an emotion such as love, and thrice for letting those weak emotions ever _happen_. The dark, red blood spilled freely down his tanned, muscular arms. Pleasure filled him momentarily, but he knew it wouldn't last long so he cut again and again…

Extremely weird chapter; ignore me. I'm mindlessly writing and posting, people. Hopefully if I make it up to chapter five or six, then maybe I will finish a story and rewrite it too! Yes, yes!!! I'll be able to say that one day. Anyways, this is basically Vegeta but not really everything real to him at all. There's more emotion to him than I can ever describe but a lot that I can try to describe so bear with me. Peace up,

Shay


	3. Chapter 3

**_Guess Who _**

_You'd think I was a rockstar…_

It is crazy how my life began, as a thieving desert bandit, and gradually moving on up to a wealthy chick's boyfriend, then a man with future of a baseball star. Sometimes I close my deep, dark onyx eyes and dream of the parents I never knew. What were they like? Are they still alive?

Fuck, sometimes it gets lonely in this cold-ass world. There are so many beautiful women in this world; so beautiful and exotic with curvy figures that will drive a man crazy; and still, life feels so damn incomplete.

Ha-ha. Can you imagine that? Me? With my intense love of women? Every night there is a different, beautiful woman in my bed and every morning I wake up beside her, staring into her face wondering why she is here, with me, when I cannot give her anything. Does she actually believe that when I reach fame, I will remember her name among all of the other countless women that have lain in my bed? Ha-ha, these women think they are one in a million!

I have a jealous, rich-ass girlfriend, desperate for attention. Why in the hell is she so insecure? She has everything. Every damn thing! She thrives on the fact that I cheat; it gives her something to yell about and cause a big scene so she can be the center of attention. Just like the other chicks. And what do I have? I live a life co-dependent on her and two seconds of fame with a chick who wakes up, praying to God she's pregnant so she have a piece of me to make her rich beyond belief.

But do not be deceived, I am an optimistic person with one helluva love for women; I love my girlfriend. I love the way she looks when I am hovering over her, her legs shaking as she braces herself for my entrance. I love that her body is only made for me, the way she bares her weakness and fears to me. She knows who I am, and she secretly accepts it. But we both know, she doesn't know herself and she won't accept it. Deep down; we're both afraid of who we are.

Do you know what I think about when I am playing baseball? I think about my dreams, I feel freedom, and making my parents proud; wherever they are. For those moments; I feel like a rockstar. And my fears? They don't exist.


End file.
